Tag: midlife women

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Where comparison has a place

Wholehearted living has been my focus for living in 2020. And I’ve noticed it’s one of those attributes you don’t necessarily notice, until you do. And over the past few weeks, I have to say that I’ve noticed. Primarily with respect to a desire to show up authentically in each and every situation. Lest you believe I was faking it before this year, let me explain. The daily situations in which we find ourselves require a certain…evaluation. For example, you don’t show up to the office as your Saturday night self. You compare the two and determine exactly what impression Saturday self will leave in the strategic planning meeting you have at 9 a.m. Saturday self stays in bed and Monday morning self heads to work.

June has been focused on choosing creativity over comparison. I’m 1000% on board from the perspective on my creative life. And comparing any success I have to someone else’s? Fool’s errand.. don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. They will be lying, straight up lying. Our lives our uniquely ours and lived out best when we don’t compare to others.

A different way to look at comparison

But…the last few days I’ve been pondering that. Because I’ve noticed that when I am in situations where my perception – whether it’s stated or not – is that to fit in, to belong certain behavior is expected, I have a lower and lower tolerance. The tendency is to blame that on the other people. “They” – the infamous they – shouldn’t expect that you will conform. You should be accepted as you are. Ok, well, maybe.

At the same time, groups of people form their normative behaviors that essentially govern the group. When an individual in the group changes, the group tries to ‘bring the back.’ Attempts to cajole their behavior back to what had been ‘acceptable,’ and garnered belonging. If that doesn’t work, they’ll resort to shame, or ridicule and may even expel the person if the behavioral change is dramatic. It’s a process known as tribal shaming. And if you find yourself in that experience, run, don’t walk.

When comparison leads to change

As I’ve pondered, compared my evolving confidence in my wholehearted authentic self, I find myself feeling like a fish out of water in certain situations where the behavioral norm is strong. And I’ve ‘compared,’ that norm, it’s the one example which I believe is not off limits. Because as your authentic self comes through – and it’s always there, it may simply take a while to feel comfortable emerging – to engage in any other way pushes you outside your values.

The comparison led to a realization that I’m engaged in a few situations where the norm is inconsistent with my authentic self. And I am of the belief that the decisions we make in our lives should be weighed against our true self, considered in terms of will it keep us within our values or push us outside of our values. Authenticity is one of my values, along with integrity, equality, inclusion, family, love.

Creativity and living your wholehearted life

Enter creativity. You can’t always walk away from every situation where you realize your wholehearted self has changed as you’ve shown up for yourself. That’s simply a fact. But you can influence, you can use your voice, impact your sphere with your authentic self. Your creative, unique, individual self.

Wholehearted living is not for wimps, and it’s not a cat poster. It’s not as simple as “Hang in there.” It’s digging in and doing the work. It’s hard and it hurts. But…it is worth it. This is your one and precious, beautiful life. I’m on the journey with you, lovlies. Be brave. Lisa

 

 

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Why creativity within faith can be challenging

As certainly as the sun will rise in the east, it is known that fall leads to winter, followed by spring and finally summer. These things we know. We may compare the seasons to one another, but we know that each has its gifts. And with each, we also experience change. We are currently transitioning from spring into summer. The Summer Solstice.

Also happening in June

June has also become known as Pride month. The annual celebration of the 1969 Stonewall Riots in New York City.  It’s a time to commemorate the impact the LGBT+ community has had on the world. Just this week, the Supreme Court of the United States ruled that the 1964 Civil Rights Act protects LGBT+ individuals from discrimination ‘based on sex’ in the workplace. A significant victory and step forward for our country and for people who have been unfairly discriminated against for how they were born and who they love.

I could easily continue about the countless other serious, unjust, issues within the United States at this time, but those will be the subject of another blog, another day. I still have much interior work to be done on those matters. On the issue of LGBT+ and change, I have done significant work on many levels. Which circles back to the challenges of creativity within faith.

Getting to the point

Raised a Christian, I’ve attended church my entire life. Sitting in the pews, listening, not questioning. Ok, maybe not entirely listening, and yes, women submit to your husbands I may have questioned when I was a high-minded college student. But generally, I honestly didn’t think to much about it one way or another. Church, what was preached, it was. I didn’t think about the believing part, it was. There was no question of any other options.

For many people, that’s the way it is. You don’t think about. The teaching is that the Word is without error, so you do not question it. As you grow, you’re taught to read, to understand, to bring it into your heart, and I did. But you guys, there was stuff that began to not make sense to me. When you start to wonder if it could be different, if there’s another way to look at it, those questions can be scary.

Questions more than comparison

Asking questions within Bible study, at least the ones I was part of, for example…whoa, whoa, slow down. It was as though I was comparing what the Bible said to a three headed dog rather than asking what I thought were interesting questions. Or, told I was being disrespectful. So, I stopped asking.

That scariness feels like you’re on the outside. It feels as though if you’re not with us, you’re against us. Scary because it feels like judgement. And that? That feels like shame.

And not asking, accepting, that’s ok for the vast majority of people. It is. But it wasn’t for me. I had people within my life, my own flesh and blood, who are gay. Nowhere within my heart could I believe that, as written, God did not love flesh of my flesh. I could not. Yes, it was my gut. And yes, there were those who told me the Bible was clear. But that’s not what my heart told me. I could not understand that when those words were written 2000+ years ago, there was even a remote consideration of future circumstances and ongoing human evolution.

How to be creative within faith

Being creative within faith feels like you’re out on a bit of a limb. I cannot lie about that. Am I making stuff up? Absolutely not. I have consulted with pastors. I have read books, articles, listened to podcasts, followed websites. Talked to more pastors. Honestly, I continue to go to church, albeit one that is affirming of LGBT+ people because and would not, cannot do otherwise. But it took creativity, and not allowing the comparison from others, which is really a form of judgment, to stop me, to overshadow the work I was doing. Creativity in the examination of what I believe. It was an internal inspection, undertaken because it was too important not to.

And you may or may not agree with what I believe. That’s ok too. Our relationship with Jesus, with His love, which is intended for every single person is personal. We feel it, we take it in, we share it with others. How we do it? It’s up to us. No longer do I search the drawer for the cookie cutter. And tomorrow, it’s Sunday, and though I will watch the church I love celebrate ALL online, I will also go outside, in nature, where I believe Jesus will be with me, celebrating the change of seasons and the Summer Solstice.

Be Brave friends. Lisa

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Why choose creativity over comparison?

My children’s grandmother is an artist. I mean, an actual artist, as in, makes a living selling her paintings. Naturally when my children were young, I imagined they would be protégés or born with her innate talent to create. As early as it seemed appropriate, we had crayons and colored, I engineered art projects for nearly every birthday party, I wanted to spark the bug within them to create.

Hanging in my guest bathroom for many years was a painting by my older son, Carson. It was precious and, although it no longer graces my walls, I have it, as I always will, because I am a mother. He recently painted an “installation” for his apartment that I love, and it delights me that the creative bug lives on. Is my younger son creative? Yes? It’s demonstrated through his passion for plants, their growth, structure and patterns. I will go with that as his creative streak.

But if I compared them to their grandmother…are they artists?

What is creative?

One of the challenges internally with creativity is its subjective nature. Not black and white, subject to the eye of the beholder. What makes it ‘good’ or ‘bad’ is up for debate. While the kids’ grandmother is an artist, is it possible that’s a construct? She paints (beautifully), it appeals to an audience, it’s recognizable, and people want to pay money for it, therefore, we call her an artist.

But what about me? Earlier today, I decided to create a picture for a blank wall in my powder bath and with inspiration from Henri Matisse, a flower-esque canvas was born. Does that make me an artist? I write this blog every week in addition to innumerable other posts and documents, does that make me a writer?

Why comparison enters the picture

Because we desire to add definition to our activities, we compare to others. I may look at artists and evaluate my creation compared to theirs. Is it as good? Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Am I an artist? The same comparison exists for writing, or any other creative endeavor.

And the unfortunate result is that we subconsciously stifle ourselves. Because we determine that whatever it is that we’re doing is ‘less than’ what someone else has created. Why do we have this insatiable desire to put a label on it at all? When we do, we’re missing the point. Creativity is subjective. It’s not up to you to determine if I am an artist, or a writer, that’s up to me. Determining if you’re an artist is up to you and you alone.

Which is easier said than done.

Wholehearted living lets go of comparison

Truthfully, I’d like to say I don’t compare myself to anyone. That I believe I’m an artist and a writer. That would be a lie. In real life, I hesitate to use those labels. I compare my ‘art,’ my ideas, my vision (because creativity is far more than visual arts) to others to determine the good/bad factor. The Wholehearted Living Guidepost capturing my attention this month is choosing creativity over comparison.

Comparison needs to stop. Do you know one of the reasons I’ve continued to exercise my creativity? Because it brings me joy. I love writing. I love painting, or creating, or dreaming up creative solutions, or schemes or ideas. When we compare, we look at another person’s exterior, at their finished product, and think we’re seeing the entire picture.

We only have the full picture of ourselves

We’re not seeing the whole picture. Each person projects the part of themselves they want others to see. Including us. We show the world around us what we want them to see. Maybe it’s only the best pieces of art, or pictures, or selfies, or writing, or we filter our ideas, our suggestions, our creativity. We run it through our internal comparison meter first to determine if it’s good enough for others to see.

That’s what they’re doing to. Wholehearted living requires us to stop comparison. Let the creativity flow. Encourage it in yourself and others. Know that we may be on this journey together, and our paths may be crossing, but our footsteps are not the same. We need every single one. Together, we complete the picture. You’re creative, you’re an artist, you’re brave, my friend. Sending you love. Lisa

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Why it may be time change your mind

Or more appropriately, the time has come to change your mind.

While not a fan of the word “should,” I’m putting it out there, because within the United States there is no other option for many of us but to change our minds. I posted last week about being raised in an environment which, from my perspective, appeared to be absent of discrimination. And by and large, I stand by that. But I’m wondering if maybe that wasn’t enough.

Because not talking about it, while ok, doesn’t equip you to stand for anything. We should change that. We MUST change that. I don’t say that disparagingly about where I grew up and the environment there, or in my home. But beyond the events of the last week, the last few years have opened my eyes to a broader scope of reality. Which is this: the number of people who are marginalized and fighting for recognition and respect should make you weep. Until you see those realities up close, you may not even realize they exist.

I am up close.

Within my family are two of the most beautiful boys who are gay. Do I worry about them? Yes. Because I’m a mother. But also because there are people within this country continuing to believe that being created perfectly as a child of God exactly as you, anywhere on the LGBTQIA spectrum, is somehow wrong. As if you can change it. You can’t. God loves them, I love them, they are perfectly made. Period.

And once this mother wrapped her heart and mind around that fact, my heart was cracked open. Not only for the LGBTQIA community but for all marginalized people.

That’s how it works.

You begin to see the fractures within the social justice system once you’re up close. The events of the past week in the U.S. highlighted racism that continues to marginalize significant groups of people. And as I’ve felt drawn to reach out to my black and brown brothers and sisters, I realize that I have lived with the benefit of unearned privilege that wasn’t even on my radar. Not seeing the disparity between what I think is ‘normal’ and the experience among BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color).

My mind has changed.

Each one of us should be examining our hearts and mind and asking questions. Which means talking about it. We need to be learning about the experience of other people whose childhoods were not like our own. Who are not living today with the same liberties we may take for granted.  That person might be our neighbor. There was a time when a Hispanic friend and I spent a great many hours together -living life. Not once during those months did I learn (or ask) of the racist comments made to him during his childhood, in the same neighborhoods where we lived that day. The names he was called. I learned those facts last week, because I shared a desire to learned from my BIPOC friends and he reached out. I am grateful for friends who are willing to engage in necessary conversations.

Do the best you can until you know better.

Then when you know better, do better.

Maya Angelou

Once I was told “You’ve changed,” as an accusation. As though it was a betrayal. It was not. What is a betrayal is to see the truth, what’s true for you, and continue to live outside your integrity. Brené Brown defines integrity as “Choosing courage over comfort; choosing what’s right over what’s fun, fast and easy; and choosing to practice our values over simply professing them.” Integrity is one of my core values, and I choose courage.

Do I have all of this figured out? Not even a little bit. But what I do know is I have a lot to learn. I suspect many of us do. Learn about the experience that is different than our own, by listening, by asking questions. Have brave conversations. Lift up the voices of those who are different providing a platform to speak their truth.

And those words, I hope they change your heart. They’re changing mine.

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Why we need to question the truth

As infants, we are nothing if not great observers. Helpless, we soak up the words, emotions, actions of our caregivers. Our decision-making defaults to what we’ve been handed through our genes, through Epigenetics, and childhood experiences. Since our parents are ‘without fault’ we trust and rarely question the ‘truth.’ But what if that truth is tainted?

Because it is.

Irrespective of who your parents are, or the parent you are to your children, the ‘truth’ we are taught and pass down is tainted. It’s inherited, and perhaps refined through the generations, but it’s based on a history of beliefs and how we’ve experienced life. We’re taught, and teach, what we’ve been programmed to believe, which can be positive or maybe not. Think for a minute about the first time you chose a political party. Republic, Democrat, Libertarian…lots of options these days. And for a barely legal adult of 18, whose brain is not yet fully formed, let’s be honest, the simplest option was to go with what Mom and Dad chose.

Which works, maybe forever, or maybe not. The point is not your political party, it’s the immense influence how we were raised has on our decision making, our evaluation of good and bad.

Where our ‘truth’ come from

I was primarily raised in Yosemite National Park. This is not a headline to anyone who has read my blog. Visitation was seasonal, with the majority of people flooding into the park in the spring, summer and early fall. Winter was crickets. Thus, the workforce fluctuated similarly, with around 800 additional employees, at that time mainly college students, arriving for the summer. As children, those of us living in the park saw those people, visitors and employees, and didn’t think much about them other than ‘will they buy lemonade from the stand I set up in my yard?’

While there wasn’t tremendous diversity in the ranks of those living in the park year-round, nonetheless, I don’t know that I could even detail it for you. Because, in my recollection, it was never a topic. Similarly, when my left foot was amputated at 4 while living in the park, it was not a topic. I started school that fall with the same friends I’d played with since moving to Yosemite and have zero recollection of it ever being an issue. Irrespective of race, disability, or sexual identity, honestly, my memory of that place and those days did not include conversations, about race, disability or sexual identity in a) my home from my parents, or b) in the community.

Was I naïve to it? Maybe. But that sense of inclusion carried forward into adulthood.

So, when I see people in any of those or other marginalized communities being treated differently because of a factor they can not change, I don’t understand. Or, I used to not understand. But as I’ve studied and come to understand that not all, in fact many people do not share my lens, my gratitude for a childhood experience that did not include discrimination swells. Was it there? Again, maybe, but not from my lens.

As I learn more from people different than me about their life experience – which is essential – my heart breaks a little more each time. I see the privilege automatically bestowed on me as a straight, white, woman. Factors that would never enter my mind as prevalent for many. I am also fortunate that the ‘programming’ I received from my parents was not exclusionary.

We must question the ‘truth’

But I have found, as you may have, myself in groups that are exclusionary. Subtly at first until I noticed it, and then it smacked me in the face, and I couldn’t unsee it. When you know that people you love would not be allowed to fully participate, the place you’ve chosen is no longer your place. This is when you must take a stand and question what has been said to be ‘true’, which is not easy. Because within the group you have belonging. And though you may only appear to have adopted their belief system, your belonging is dependent on it. So, when you begin to question, to wonder out loud if beliefs could be different, you risk your belonging.

Which none of us want to do.

But we must. If we find ourselves within a group or system that does not love, accept and celebrate all people, our belonging is not worth it. And I will tell you friends, that sucks. I won’t pretend it doesn’t. But our integrity is worth it. Belonging based on standing outside ourselves is nothing but hustling for our worth. And I don’t know about you, but I’d rather standalone than hustle. If this is your journey, hang in there. It’s not easy, I know it’s not easy, but we must. We are brave. We have each other. Sending you love.

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What’s the worst that could happen?

Try it, you’ll like it.  The well-known catch phrase from the 70’s, not, as I learned while researching, from a Life Cereal ad, but instead, Alka Seltzer. Which makes it more apropos, because I’ve been pondering venturing into unknown territory. Leaving certainty. In the ad, the encouragement to try it is made with assurance because if heartburn arose, Alka Seltzer would surely resolve it.

What’s the worst that could happen?

I work with a coach of my own who frequently asks me, “what if you did it anyways?” I assure you this is one of dozens of ways she’s figured out work to challenge me to think counter to my certainty-based thinking pattern when it comes to branching out. As we labored through my resistance, she flipped a switch for me. Beginner’s fear, she called it, which is another form of Imposter Syndrome. Defined as,

 “The persistent inability to believe that one’s success is deserved or has been legitimately achieved as a result of one’s own efforts or skills”

According to Buck Stewart on Medium, we may experience it when starting something new, a job, a skill, putting our gifts into the world for the first time.

In 2018 I attended Brave Magic with Elizabeth Gilbert and Cheryl Strayed at the 1440 Multiversity. Nestled in the Santa Cruz Mountains, the picturesque grounds and chill vibe give the illusion you’ll float through your experience. I did not. I believed it was a writing workshop, and it was. All about my inner shadows. Surrounded by 600 others, many published authors, I had the joy of sharing my writing with a perfect stranger, but only after digging deep into my soul. I felt over my head and intimidated the entire time. It was not chill. It was therapy. I downloaded the experience in this blog sharing the imposter’s syndrome that stayed with me through much of the weekend.

Several days have passed since idea of beginner’s fear was again posed to me, leaving time for multiple dots to connect. Namely that with anything new, including activities that tap into areas of strength, trepidation is not uncommon. You’re moving from certainty to relying on your experience and intuition. And the stakes are increased if the new thing includes uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure, aka, vulnerability.

Rewiring our minds for uncertainty

The path to wholehearted living requires we move from certainty into trusting intuition and faith. Predictability replaced with trust in yourself, having faith. But it’s not a matter of flipping a switch. Certainty is safe and unknown. Neurologically, our brains will search for what is familiar. We see different as a threat. Dr. Kristin Beasley, PhD, a trusted friend of mine, shared a compelling talk on just this topic, diving into the neuroscience behind how our brains see difference, particularly in regard to diversity, in her Quarantine with Dr. B series on Facebook. You can watch the episode on YouTube.

Our brains have the powerful ability to keep us safe, but we’re not being chased by a T-Rex on our way home from the grocery store. The more we expose ourselves to new experiences, challenges, people, the stronger the neurological pathways connecting different to safe instead of danger.

Embrace your intuition

Growth lies on the other side of certainty. And if we’re not growing, then what? For me, particularly now that I’ve hit the “middle of life,” becoming stale is not an option. Consciously aware that I’m walking out the second half of my life, the importance of growth and trusting my intuition is increasingly important. Midlife isn’t a dead end, it’s a spotlight. Showing us the areas in our life where we’ve been ‘phoning it in.’ It’s time to follow our inner calling and continue in spite of beginner’s fear because…

What’s the worst that could happen?

I, for one, am willing to walk it out. Are you with me? What’s the still, small voice within you saying? Perhaps it’s no longer quiet, but instead a loud roar. Friends, you are not alone. And I assure you, we are not imposters in our own lives. We are walking out our inner calling together. Trusting our intuition and rewiring our brains to embrace different. No one else will live it out for us. It’s our journey, let’s Be Brave.

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Giving yourself permission to dream

Dream big! The lesson of childhood. Embrace the unknown, explore, wander, daydream. My neighbor, Sarah, and I regularly gathered underneath the apple tree growing in the meadow in front of our houses. I have vivid memories of detailed planning for an apartment we were going to construct. First, in an underground bunker we’d dig in the bare dirt patch at the base of the tree. Second, in the branches of the tree, which we regularly climbed. We envisioned the separate living spaces and ‘fancy’ layout of our magical dream pad. Barbie’s dreamhouse paled in comparison. We couldn’t have been more than 4 or 5 years old.

Though we valiantly dug in that dirt, and gazed skyward, our outdoor living spaces never came to be.

Why our dreams fade

But we had the dream, and we stuck with it. In the end, someone likely told us the infeasibility of our plan and it faded out of our minds. Children dream big. They can see what adults view as impossible because they haven’t been conditioned to believe otherwise. With the intent of protecting our kids from the heartache of disappointment, we gently squash their plans and keep them safe.

Slowly, year by year, we’re guided to reduce risk. Gently nudged towards a mindset of certainty. I’ll raise my hand and acknowledge that’s where I landed, in the sea of certainty. Trained to consider risk and minimize it in my decision making. Though I’ve rebelled against that thought pattern in some respects, my athletic pursuits for example, I’m staunchly in the camp when it comes to decisions that involve my own entrepreneurial spirit and stepping to the side of a traditional career.

Whose voice is squashing your dreams?

During a meditation and mindfulness workshop this morning, it dawned on me that the frustration I felt about my glacial paced activity to grow different aspects of my career wasn’t frustration at all. At the root of it was the judgement I imputed upon myself. The voice in my head wasn’t my own, it was the voice of authority telling me how foolish it would be to branch out. To step into a space of trusting my intuition and having faith in the process. Judgement for stepping outside of certainty.

And it made me think about how often we kill our own dreams before they have a chance to fully develop. Before they are ready to fly. When we have uncertainty about the outcome the tendency is to revert to planning. To engineer the risk out of the dream, making it benign enough that the risks are minimal. We wait for unspoken permission to pursue our own dreams. We shift from big sky dreaming to vanilla…and not even Madagascar vanilla…boring, plain vanilla.

What’s the fun of that?

Making space for dreaming

Embracing Brené Brown’s Wholehearted Living Guidepost of letting go of certainty and embracing intuition and faith, touches more than one area of our lives. It permeates throughout. We are not meant to be kept on a shelf, wrapped up neat and tidy. Think about a dream of your own, one that you set aside because you had to be “responsible.” Or that was risky. What did you gain by postponing or dropping it? What would you have gained by pursuing it? And…if you pursued it and it didn’t work out, what’s the worst that would have happened?

Imagine you allowed yourself to play through a dream or desire that churns inside you. What would be different in your life a year from now? Don’t get stuck in how to get there, dream. Allow your mind to go to the natural conclusion. Once you have that dream fully formed? Do it. Seriously. Stay focused on the end goal and move forward, one step at a time. The truth is you might only know the first couple steps. That’s ok. Start there and the rest will unfold at the time it’s supposed to. Be open, be curious, trusting your intuition.

I believe in you. The voices that tell you otherwise can take a hike, they are not living your life. You can keep waking up each day with unlived dreams or you can embrace them. Give yourself permission to pursue your dreams! We’re on the journey together friends. Be brave.

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Beginning to unravel certainty

Within our lives exist deeply personal journeys that can only be taken one step at a time. There are no shortcuts, no ‘Collect $200 and advance to GO.’ Slowly, painfully at times, I’ve worn holes in my shoes pacing and scuffing the floor as a distraction, a hesitation. At the same time, this particular one has brought me to a place of peace within myself. Wrestling with how I walk out my faith.

And while I’m not entirely ‘there’ yet, considerable ground has been traversed. And the not knowing yet is a component of the peace. Focusing each month on one of Brené Brown’s Guideposts for Wholehearted Living has resulted in a journey of its own thus far. But this month’s is timely, “Letting go of the need for certainty and Embracing intuition and trusting faith.” Buckle up.

Raise your hand if you were raised “in church.” Me too. Each Sunday we’d make our way to the little chapel in Yosemite Valley – picturesque really – to sit for an hour on hard, wooden benches and listen to our conservative pastor share the Word. I was even baptized in the Merced River that meandered through the meadow across the street.

Looking back, church was the event. Being a Christian was simply who we were in my family. Like many, once I was out of the house, regular church attendance became a sporadic event. That was, until my kids were on the scene and a nagging moral obligation to return to the chapel poked at me long enough that I listened.

Certainty enters the picture

Fast forward to early midlife when I was ‘all in’ at church again. Attending a hip, cool one that met in a movie theater, I drank it in, meeting supportive, loving people. Over the years, I recall hearing about something called Apologetics, which sounded boring to my non-analytical brain. Here’s how the internet defines it: reasoned arguments or writings in justification of something, typically a theory or religious doctrine. In my words, it’s a way to ‘prove’ your beliefs about God, Jesus and the Bible. Apologetics is rooted in certainty.

Which is why I never grabbed on to it. My faith was never about certainty. It was about trusting the knowing in my heart, still is. Never did I feel compelled to argue for it. Some would say that’s part of my Christian “job.” Ok. That doesn’t change anything for me. Still not going for it. When you let go of certainty, you open space to wonder. A space to ask questions, to listen to what the whisper of your heart is telling you.

Letting go of certainty

And I have a LOT of questions and wonder. Maybe you do to. Or not…and if that’s the case…cool for you. Throughout the month, thoughts which brew in my mind I’ll be throwing out for consideration, but not all at once. Letting go of certainty may be a journey you’re also on. Perhaps it’s about your faith, or maybe about an aspect of your life you held as true but now you wrestle with it. In case no one else has told you, you’re allowed. You can have questions, you can challenge popularly held beliefs, you can wonder. The world will not end.

Trusting your intuition

Because whatever you believe, about faith or something else, it’s honestly no one else’s business. What is your intuition telling you? The rumblings of your heart? Those nudges that push you towards asking questions, that’s your intuition, it’s the still small voice. And if you’re scared? It could be a sign that you’re on to something big. Something within you than needs to be explored. Go there. Know though that your exploration may not be popular. And still, it’s ok. As we explore this subject and we’ll also talk about the cost. But not today. Today, simply wonder and trust your intuition. I’m on the journey with you. Be Brave.

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How to take off your masks

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a doctor. Specifically, a baby doctor. Babysitter extraordinaire for my neighborhood, I could not get enough of the babies. At 14, the nuance that obstetrician also meant gynecologist, and that the only involvement with babies this girl would have was coming out, was lost on me. If my poor results in science classes hadn’t have dissuaded me from pursuing that passion, our current requirement to wear masks would have.

How doctors and nurses are wearing them all day long escapes me. I wear mine to the store and am half convinced I’m going to hyperventilate before I exit the produce aisle. If told I had to wear it continuously, I’d have to find a new profession. Which is why I will remain working at home as long as necessary to avoid donning my mask on a consistent basis.

You might be nodding along with me, high fiving me, yeah! Wearing a mask, while currently necessary in public, is not my dream come true.

So, why do we do it?

Why do we put forward a version of ourselves that guarantees belonging but is less than our true and authentic self? That is a mask. It’s not an act of deception, it’s an act of desperation. One we believe necessary. Because deep in our hearts, we’re afraid that if people saw who we really were, at our core, the messy, confused, questioning, silly, goofy self we are, they wouldn’t like us. If they saw that we aren’t convinced that what we’ve been told to believe our entire lives made sense, at least not 100% of it, we’d be out of the club.

And we desperately want to be part of the club.

We want to belong

As women, many of us are “faking it to protect our belonging,” according to Jen Hatmaker, and I agree. We don’t set out of wear a mask. It’s not one of the lessons we learn as a child. It’s not our heart to deceive anyone. But as we mature, we notice how people respond to us. We see what gains positive attention and what gains negative attention. We learn to fit in…to go along…to not make waves. And as we do, we’re slowly giving away parts of ourselves. Because the club…we think it’s everything.

The club wants to keep us as a member. They’ll double down if they see us start to ask questions. Or if we start to behave in a manner that isn’t ‘acceptable.’ “You’ve changed!” they cry, shaming us into circling back to our thoughts, our beliefs, our behaviors that fit in. And we do it. For a while. We continue wearing our mask, conforming, fitting in. Not voicing what the still small voice is telling us.

Healthcare workers on the front line have taken pictures showing the result of wearing their masks constantly. Marks, rashes, evidence of covering their face. Not dissimilar to what happens to our hearts, our inner self, our own souls, when we keep the mask on, covering who we are, it leaves a mark. Unlike healthcare workers, we have a choice, we can take off our mask.

What happens when the mask comes off

And it may very well have consequences. We need to re-navigate our relationships, some of which may not survive. When we step into our true selves, depending on the size of the step, we may lose relationships. Lose our club membership. But we maintain our integrity. If we continue to fake it, we will slowly be eaten up inside. I know, I’ve been there. I had simmering anger inside me that I couldn’t even name. Until I did. I had no other choice but to take off the mask. And it came with a high cost.

So, for you, what is the mask you’re wearing? Or better yet, what is your still small voice telling you? Has the time come that you listen? If it has, know that it is worth it. More than anything, it is worth it. To be at peace with yourself, with your integrity, it’s worth it. Know that you’re not alone on the journey, I’m right there with you. Be Brave.

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How are you getting what you need?

Quick. On one hand count how often you got together in April 2019 with 15 of your girlfriends at 9 a.m. on a Saturday morning to practice meditation and Koia? The answer? Zero. Perhaps even less than zero because you may very well have been asleep. In the era of shelter in place, my answer for April 2020 is 3 out of 3 thanks to my social and mileage-wise distanced friend Michelle. In what I’d describe divinely inspired, she created the Self-Love Project through her coaching company, My Village Well. Bringing together her village of women, which I’ve stumbled into, she hosts workshops throughout the year.

Creating Connection

Addressing our shelter in place requirement thanks to COVID, she created the project to provide space for women to feel and simply be for an hour. In the midst of all the noise which we’re faced with surrounding the pandemic, taking time to breathe feels precious and soul nurturing. Today, her guest speaker Nicole led the group through a short, mindful, Koia practice, which basically involves movement, dance and connection to your body. We danced to the Rolling Stones singing You Can’t Always Get What You Want, after which she encouraged us to journal following the prompt…I might not be getting what I want, but where am I getting what I need? As she spoke the words, I had an aha moment.

Letting go of scarcity

Throughout April, I’ve been focusing on the Wholehearted Living Guidepost of ‘letting go of scarcity and fear of the dark’. If you think God doesn’t have a sense of humor, think again, because having pre-chosen that, not knowing we’d be sheltering in place seems serendipitous. Focus on letting go when it feels as though we’re gazing into the eye of scarcity every single moment.

So, I pondered where the aha was taking me, and thought about the abundance rising out of COVID. I rarely know what I want, it’s my internal struggle. An Enneagram 9, I avoid disrupting the peace and as a result have been known to go along to get along. And I’ve made it my mission to push myself into defining what I want, what I need. It’s not easy. Although I’m working at home through shelter in place, I also have an abundance of time to breathe and ponder what I want and need. I have plenty, not lack.

It appears that what I need is time. Space. A slower pace. I’ve found myself releasing the internal drive (I may be an Enneagram 9, but my 1 wing is strong) to be in motion. The 1 that often overshadows my easygoing 9 self and tells her to get out of the chair and DO. What I need is connection at a heart level, which Michelle’s Self Love Project Saturdays provide.

What do you need?

My question for you is the same, if you aren’t getting what you want, where are you getting what you need? Take 15 minutes out of your day and spend 5 dancing to the song that allows you to shake it out and then another 10 minutes journalling your thoughts about the question. What you find may surprise you. Because when we’re paying attention, we can see abundance and there is joy in the midst of whatever this is we’ve experiencing. We simply need to slow down and see it. Be brave my friends, I’m on the journey with you.